


So Much Better

by brianmay_be



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: He just wants to sleep, M/M, Multi, SO MUCH FLUFF, brian is the mother hen of course, for such a short fic, freddie's boyfriends love him more than life itself, hungover freddie is lowkey a mess, john is a shy babey, poly!Queen, roger feels guilty but it's really sweet and he snatches all my uwus, someone kiss him, the boys being v soft as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 17:31:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20764226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianmay_be/pseuds/brianmay_be
Summary: "You look bloody knackered, love,” Roger says, hopping off the drum risers. He sticks his hands in his jeans pockets and gives Freddie a chaste kiss. “You sure you’re alright to be here? You had an awful lot to drink last night.”ORFreddie comes in to rehearsal with a hangover, and his boyfriends fuss over him.





	So Much Better

Freddie stumbles into rehearsal with barely a minute to spare. He’s grateful for the dimmer light of the studio compared to the irritatingly bright morning sun outside; in fact, everything about the studio is especially nice considering the massive hangover he’s only possibly living through at the moment. It’s dark and cool; he smells coffee brewing, dark, just like John likes; the sounds of the street outside dull as the door closes behind him and the soft hum of Red Special drifts through the air. He takes a moment at the door to collect himself before heading in to greet his boyfriends.

Brian’s sitting on the floor, his long legs taking up an endearing amount of space on one of the soft Persian rugs that cover the studio floor wall to wall. He’s cradling Red Special in his lap, re-stringing the E, plucking gently and drawing a soft twang from the string as he tightens it. His curls fall over his face and his lips are parted slightly in concentration.

John is sprawled over the couch, one of his legs draped amusingly over the back of the sofa as he frowns at the piece of paper in his hand. He bites the end of his pencil, muttering quietly to himself, working out lyrics in his head. His expression brightens when he finds the right word, and he hastily scrawls it on the slightly crumpled sheet of notebook paper.

It takes Freddie a minute to spot Roger, but eventually he finds the blonde tinkering away at the underbelly of his drum kit. He adjusts the height of the toms, letting out a sharp curse and snatching his hand back as he pinches his finger in the process. Freddie chuckles; no matter how many times Roger adjusts the kit, he almost always has a wound to show for it. Roger tucks his hair behind his ear and tries to be a little more careful as he returns to fixing the offending drum.

“Sorry I’m late,” Freddie ventures after a moment, his voice louder than he’d expected in the comforting quiet of the studio. All three of his boyfriends look up, not having heard him come in; their expressions range from happy to worried to amused as they take stock of him.

“Fred!” John says cheerfully. “You came!”

Freddie can feel a slight blush warm his cheeks. “Of course I did, silly. We have rehearsal.”

“Yeah, but you look bloody knackered, love,” Roger says, hopping off the drum risers. He sticks his hands in his jeans pockets and gives Freddie a chaste kiss. “You sure you’re alright to be here? You had an awful lot to drink last night.”

Freddie gives a flippant wave of his hand. “Don’t I always?” he says, deflecting. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’m here, aren’t I? So let’s get this show on the road.”

“You’re sure?” Brian asks, getting to his feet and putting Red Special in her stand. He comes over to Freddie and brushes his cheek with the back of his hand. “We were going to let you sleep it off.”

Freddie sighs at the soothing coolness of Brian’s skin against his. “Yes, darling, I’m sure,” he insists, though his stomach feels a bit too rocky for it to be the truth.

John folds his paper and shoves it in his back pocket before coming up to Freddie and taking his hand, kissing his knuckles in a sweet gesture that’s very like their youngest boyfriend to give. “Fred - ”

“John, my flower, I love you more than anything; but if you also ask me if I’m sure I’m alright, I won’t speak to you for a week.”

John’s smile is cheeky and he beams under the pet name. “Okay, Freddie,” he agrees, though he does it more to please his boyfriend than because of any real assurance that Freddie is as fine as he says he is. He kisses Freddie’s cheek. “Whatever you say.”

“Now, that’s more like it,” Freddie says briskly, trying his best to put on the front of the lead singer who’s all business rather than the pathetic, dreadfully hungover boyfriend he is. He claps above his head and they disperse to their spots, retrieving instruments and settling for the first run-through of the morning.

“What’s up first?” Freddie asks Brian, who’s always the most organized of them all and actually keeps track of what songs they have to get through.

“I thought we’d try Deaky’s new song,” Brian says, giving the bassist a gentle smile. “We sort of went through it before you got here, Fred, and I’d like to see how it sounds all together.”

John blushes. “Oh, well, it’s not quite finished,” he says bashfully. “And I don’t know if it’s any good, really, it might be complete rubbish.”

“Not possible,” Roger says firmly from his seat behind the drum kit. “Besides, what we worked through earlier was quite good. Go on and count us in, lovely.”

John beckons Freddie over, and Freddie stands beside his youngest boyfriend to look over his shoulder at the lyrics scrawled on the paper sitting on the music stand.

“Just, y’know, I was thinking that you’d start just after Rog comes in - ” His eyes light with excitement. “And maybe you could play some piano for it, if you wanted, I think that might be nice.”

Freddie chuckles. “If you want me to, my love,” he says sweetly. John has a tendency to get ahead of himself when it comes to songwriting - he’s got a whole vision in his head from the beginning, and it all comes tumbling out in an enthusiastic, chaotic jumble. “Let’s go through this first run-through, and then we can talk about piano, ok?”

John flushes. “Right,” he says with a laugh that sounds a little embarrassed.

Freddie kisses his cheek, right where the endearing pink of his blush shows, and John giggles. 

“Alright, flower, show me your song,” Freddie says. He hopes none of his boyfriends notice how feeble his voice sounds - he really feels quite poorly, but he’d hate to hold up rehearsal any longer than he already has. After getting confirmation from Roger and Brian, John counts them in and starts the song off with a lovely little bass riff, a waterfall of twangy notes that Freddie thinks is quite clever. He’s about to say so when Roger comes in with a run down the toms that leads into a splashy finish on the crash cymbal, and Freddie can’t help when he winces and sucks in a sharp breath at the way the sound sends pain spiking through his head.

“Oh, Freddie,” John says sympathetically, immediately forgetting the song and letting his bass hang on the strap over his shoulder so his hands can go to to cradle Freddie’s face. Freddie unconsciously puts his hands over John’s, keeping them there, trying to quiet the ringing in his head that remains even after Roger has grabbed the cymbal to mute it.

“Sorry,” Freddie says pitifully, embarrassed and trying to make light of it, but his voice is so weak that his boyfriends see right through him. The headache has made his rocky stomach even worse and he draws a shaky breath, trying to steady himself.

“Jesus, Fred, I’m sorry,” Roger says, hurrying out from behind the kit to stand nervously by John’s side and look up at Freddie with an expression of guilt and worry. “I didn’t even think about - God, that was really stupid of me. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Freddie says, though he can feel the sting of tears as his head continues to pound. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have gone on such a fucking bender the night before rehearsal.”

Brian chuckles as he runs a soothing hand through Freddie’s hair. “You make it sound like none of us have ever partied all night and come in to rehearsal with a massive hangover, sweetheart.”

“But it’s such a bloody pain to deal with me,” Freddie says miserably. “I’ve kept you all waiting and now Roger can’t even play because of me.”

“I don’t mind,” Roger pipes up, his guilt still evident in his voice. “I’ll sit this one out, it’s ok.”

“Better yet,” Brian suggests, “why don’t we all have a bit of a break, and we can get some medicine into you and hopefully get you feeling better.”

Freddie looks up at Brian with eyes pooled with tears, partly from the pain in his head and party from the tenderness his boyfriends are showing him. “Are you sure?”

“Now, Freddie, love, if we can’t ask you if you’re sure, you can’t ask us,” John says, teasing and sweet. He runs his fingers over Freddie’s cheek to catch the few tears that fall.

“Oh, you poor love,” John coos. “Come on, Roggie and I will cuddle you while Brimi gets your medicine.”

Roger looks a little uncomfortable, scuffing the toe of his sparkly pink converse against the rug. “I don’t have to - I mean, you know, if you don’t - ”

“Oh, hush,” Freddie says, taking Roger’s hand and pulling him close. “You’re perfectly alright, my darling. No need to fuss. Leave that to Brian.”

Roger chuckles as he leans closer to Freddie. “Okay.”

“Come on,” John says, separating himself from the two of them to put his bass on its stand before taking their hands and leading them to the couch. Brian brings water and painkillers as they settle Freddie between them, and when Freddie’s taken his medicine - and, at Brian’s insistence, finished the water - Freddie lays his head on Roger’s lap. John runs a soothing hand over Freddie’s thigh and Brian sits on the floor facing the couch, gently combing his fingers through Freddie’s hair.

“Better?” Roger asks.

Freddie presses a gentle kiss to Roger’s leg. “Yes, my darling. So much better.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come see me on my tumblr, @brianmay-be, and uwu about poly!queen. There's a bonus mini fic that goes with this one where Roger's the one being loved on, and you can find it by looking through my poly!queen fanfiction tag!


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